In the Wolf's Tower

  Evernight Publishing

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2012 Marie Medina

  ISBN: 978-1-927368-87-9

  Cover Artist: Jinger Heaston

  Editor: Emma Shortt

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  To Howard, who has been known to growl at my rough drafts now and then.

  IN THE WOLF’S TOWER

  Naughty Fairy Tales

  Marie Medina

  Copyright © 2012

  Chapter One

  “Bring her in,” Marrok commanded.

  Josette bristled as the guards prodded her through the door. She’d come of her own free will, and she didn’t like them treating her like a prisoner. Marrok’s gaze traveled over her briefly, his large yellow eyes startling her before he turned away.

  “Follow me. Bring whatever the king has sent with her.” He gestured toward the right side of the foyer. “Just put it there.”

  She followed him in, but the guards refused to move. Josette was so tired of being in their presence she couldn’t even be bothered to order them to obey. She wanted them gone. She grabbed her own trunks by the straps at each end and began pulling. Marrok stopped and turned, though he made no move to help her. He glared at the guards and moved to the side to let her pass. She put the trunks against the wall where he had indicated and turned to watch as Marrok advanced on her father’s men.

  A chill went up her spine as she heard him growl at them.

  “Go back to your king and tell him what cowards you are! I will not send the gold until Henry sends me men not afraid to set foot in my castle!”

  Both men hesitated, and Josette came forward. She grabbed the two bags by the door and hefted them as far off the ground as she could. She threw them at the guards, happy when the bags landed on their feet and made them both wince in pain.

  She felt Marrok staring at her. Slowly she turned to look at him, refusing to be intimidated as her father’s men had been.

  “My father needs it now. I am no coward, even if they are.” She nodded at the guards. “People are going hungry, and the men need new armor.”

  “Indeed, my lady, you are no coward,” Marrok said, his yellow eyes widening. He glared at the men again. “Get out! You’ll be sorry if you aren’t gone by the time the sun sets.”

  The men had been slow and lazy getting her there, but they moved fast enough now. Josette sighed as she waited for Marrok to close the large double doors. He pulled a ring of keys from his belt and locked the door before looking at her again.

  He wore dark green pants and shirt under a brown leather doublet with high hunting boots. He towered nearly a foot over her, but she stood calmly as he moved toward her, glaring with those strange yellow eyes from behind his disheveled brown hair.

  He pushed the hair out of his face and smirked at her. “So, am I better—or perhaps worse—than you expected?”

  “I didn’t know what to expect. No one would tell me anything about the wicked Lord Marrok. Most just call you the Wolf and shudder at any questions, so I stopped asking.” She took in his whole appearance again. “You don’t look so wicked to me.”

  “How old are you now?” he asked, ignoring her observation.

  “Twenty-two.”

  “A bit old for an unwed princess.”

  She lowered her eyes. “If we had the money to marry me off, we wouldn’t need yours to fight our war. I’m a virgin, if that’s what you’re getting around to.”

  “You think I want a bride?” He laughed. “I already had one, and this is what she did to me. No, I can assure you, that’s not what I want you for, but it’s not meant as an insult.”

  “You offered my father gold in exchange for me. What was I supposed to think?”

  He shrugged. “Whatever you like. Did your father tell you that you were coming here to marry me? You hardly have enough luggage for a trousseau.”

  She shook her head. “I simply assumed.”

  “Really? You’re a beautiful, virginal princess, so of course the ugly outcast wants you as a prize?” He licked his lips as his pupils dilated and then contracted again.

  Did he intend to kill her? To eat her? “What else would a man want a young girl for?”

  He raised his eyebrows but didn’t respond.

  She pushed her fear down, sensing how much he was enjoying making her squirm, especially after she’d assured him she was a virgin. She couldn’t let him intimidate her like this. He seemed reasonable enough, so perhaps she could win herself a kinder fate from whatever he intended. “Did you want…um…a servant? Someone to go to town for you? I’m capable, I can assure you.”

  “No. You can fill your days however you like. I couldn’t care less as long as you don’t try to run away.” The smirk finally left his face completely. “You will come to no harm if you obey me.”

  Never in all her life had she been so confused. She crossed her arms. “Then why did you want me?”

  “No one told you anything?” He sounded skeptical.

  “No.” She didn’t like his tone. Did he believe she was trying to deceive him?

  “Then I could tell you any story I like, couldn’t I?”

  “Makes no difference to me. I know you were one of my father’s knights, and the people adored you. Now you’re a werewolf, and everyone is afraid of you.”

  He frowned. “I was your father’s most favored knight, and he arranged a marriage for me as a reward. She made a fool of me by opening her legs to every man in the kingdom, and when I kicked her out she cursed me and made me a werewolf.”

  “She was a witch?”

  He nodded. “She’s dead now.” His eyes flashed, and he smiled. “She was torn apart by a pack of wolves. I had nothing to do with it, but it pleased me greatly when I heard the news.”

  “I see.”

  “Didn’t end my curse though. It’s with me through my death, not hers.”

  She could see that quite plainly in his strange eyes. So this man really could turn into a wolf? Terrifying as the idea was, she wondered what it would be like to witness his transformation. Anything would be far more exciting than the life she had lived before this. “Why are you angry with my father because of what she did?”

  “Because he did nothing when I told him about all of her very public infidelities. He refused to take any action, even though his own laws protect wronged spouses in these cases. He banished me from his court when my…affliction was discovered.”

  “And now he needs your fortune.”

  “He gave me a woman who had her eye on him. He knew she was a witch and a whore. He married another the day after I wed. We had never met, but your mother’s family had intended her for me. Henry took her from me, so it’s only fair I take you from him.”

  Her mother? She’d never met her. She’d died when Josette was less than a year old. She only knew her through a painting that hung in the grand hall. “I look nothing like her. And everyone says we’re very different.”

  He advanced on her. “Like I said, I am not looking for a bride or a sexual prize. I would have made the exact same request if you had been male. Your father ruined all of my chances for happiness. If I’d married your mother, I would have had at least a chance at happiness. I would have lived out my years as a man, if nothing else. Taking
you away from Henry will destroy what little happiness he had left.”

  She laughed before she could stop herself.

  “What is so funny?” he asked, scowling at her.

  “When my father called me into a meeting to tell me what you had requested, do you know what happened?”

  His eyes narrowed. “What?”

  “He spent the first thirty seconds talking to my maid! He didn’t even recognize me! He only stopped talking when she began blushing and bowing and moving back away from him.”

  His scowl deepened. “Really?”

  She nodded. “Hate to disappoint you.”

  He glared for a moment, but then he shrugged. “It’s still a humiliation for him, and it will mean the end of his bloodline on the throne. It will do.” He turned on his heels and began to walk from the room. “Come with me!”

  Josette followed him out of the foyer and down a long hallway. He unlocked a large wooden door and went up a winding flight of stairs. The steps led up to a very large room packed wall to wall with mismatched furniture.

  “You’ll stay in the tower.”

  “It’s better than the dungeon, I suppose.”

  He turned to her. “It flooded recently, and I’ve only just gotten rid of the rats. You’d have been dead within a week from one disease or another.”

  “So you do care!” She’d been unable to resist now that her fear had evaporated. Something about this man, imposing though he was, made her long to tease him.

  He lifted her into his arms and threw her roughly onto the bed. She didn’t even have time to panic over the fear that he would beat or rape her. A cloud of dust engulfed her and immediately choked the breath from her. She coughed and waved her hands frantically as he chuckled.

  “That’s how much I care. If you want a clean room, you’ll have to clean it yourself. I don’t keep servants. The main entrance is always locked, but the rear entrances are left open.”

  “You trust me not to run away?”

  His nostrils flared a bit, and he came to the bed and leaned over her. “I may look like a man right now, but inside I am always a wolf. I can smell you. I’d know if you left, and I’d find you.”

  His words and his nearness, and especially the power of his gaze, left her speechless as she nodded. He leaned so close for so long she thought he might join her on the dusty heap. His large, muscular body would crush her if he did so. She tried to control her breathing, not willing to let him see how his nearness affected her.

  But then his eyes flicked away and he backed off of her quickly, as if he hadn’t felt the same spark at all. “I rarely feel the cold, but there’s always wood outside the stable. I enjoy the exercise of chopping it. Make your own fire, if you want one. And if you want a warm bath, you have to stoke the boiler yourself. I bathe in the stream.”

  It miffed her that he could rile her in such a way and then withdraw as if she had no power to do the same to him. “I’ll avoid it at all times then,” she said coldly.

  He laughed. “We’ll see. You might get curious.” He turned to go, but he stopped after taking three steps. “Make sure you’re in here by ten every night. I’ll be locking you in. If you aren’t here, I’ll come find you and drag you here. And I’m never in the best of moods after the sun sets, so I’d make sure you’re here.”

  She wiped some of the dust from her face and smirked. “But I do love hide and seek.” She stood and shook her skirt. “Even if your sense of smell would allow you to cheat.”

  His gleefully threatening expression faded and he stomped down the stairs.

  She looked down at her filthy dress, but there was no point in changing if she had to clean the room. She took a long look around her new home. All of the furniture was beautiful and well made; the pieces simply didn’t match. She pulled back the duvet on the bed. The bedclothes underneath were clean, so she only needed to dust and air out the duvet itself. Large glass doors opened on each side of the room, each leading to a small balcony. She walked outside to survey the landscape. At least her new home was beautiful and peaceful, even if she wasn’t wanted here any more than she had been in her own father’s castle.

  She saw Marrok striding toward the stables. He was far younger than she’d expected. He looked forty at the most and could easily pass for thirty. Some had whispered that his curse was prolonging his life, an extra twist to make him suffer more. He certainly didn’t seem as old as her father, though they were neck and neck as far as bitterness went.

  No servants, huh? So they were completely alone? She frowned, imagining how boring her life was going to be. She’d hoped for some kind of excitement. She wouldn’t even be able to make friends with the servants, which had been her only comfort in her father’s castle because he kept her hidden away from everyone. Did Marrok really run the entire castle alone? He definitely looked strong enough….

  She shook those thoughts away. His comment about her curiosity had irked her. She bit her lip. “So I’m going to be the crazy old spinster who lives with the werewolf? They’ll be saying I’m a witch soon enough, I guess.”

  She went back into the room and looked around. Where was the bathing chamber? If it was downstairs she was going to object to being locked in every night, forced to wait on him to let her out each morning. There were no other doors, but then she noticed a ladder. She climbed it, relieved to find a rather nice bathing chamber there. Unlike the bedroom, it was quite beautiful, the walls decorated with shiny jewel-toned stones and the floors covered in plush rugs. She leaned forward and touched one of the rugs, but they didn’t seem dirty. She examined the bathtub and found a thin layer of dust. She’d see to it later after she’d finished cleaning everything else. She went back down the ladder and gathered the duvet in her arms. If nothing else, she’d have a clean prison to rot away and go mad in.

  * * * *

  Marrok watched Josette struggling with the duvet, but he didn’t move. He was amazed the spoiled princess had thought to do something so practical. Yet in a very short time she’d found the clothesline, a stepladder and even the rug beater. She surprised him again when she showed that she knew how to use it. Perhaps she wasn’t so spoiled after all. He watched her swaying hips and heaving breasts. No indeed, she didn’t look like her mother, a delicate porcelain beauty who would have broken if he’d tossed her onto a bed the way he had Josette. Under different circumstances he would have climbed onto the bed with her and pinned her there for hours.

  Her long brown hair fell in natural curls down her back, and her olive skin showed that she didn’t hide under sunshades and hideous hats. She was also strong enough for her size judging by the way she’d hefted and tossed those bags of gold. He’d been so taken aback at her boldness he’d been pleased instead of incensed. As he watched her beating the duvet, he briefly imagined seizing the beater from her hand and swatting her ample bottom with it. He didn’t like thin women, and this one had plentiful curves, the kind that told a man exactly where to put his hands.

  He knew the approach of sunset was making his long-denied desire worse, but he lingered to watch anyway. So no one had prepared her? That was enough to prove that her father did not love her. Marrok became a wolf every single night, not just the night of the full moon. He could change at any time, but it happened at midnight whether he wanted it to or not. But she would learn all that soon enough.

  Why did she have to be a virgin? A woman with her body? Those full lips and flashing eyes? She’d obviously been kept away from men in hopes of a profitable marriage. However, eligible princes were in short supply, unless she wanted to be sent about two thousand miles away. That wouldn’t have helped her father much.

  Marrok moved back into the shadows and exited through the back of the stables. He would not seduce a maiden, even though he did hate her father, but if she came to him he would take her as soon as the request passed her lips. He smiled at the thought of such words coming from that lovely mouth. Twenty-two and never known a man? She would be curious before long. She wa
s spirited enough to banter with him, and he’d bet that spirit would lead her to do far more soon enough.

  Chapter Two

  Josette entered the kitchen and found Marrok finishing his dinner. “I thought you would want me to do that.”

  “Did you? Can you cook?”

  She nodded.

  “Rare talent for a princess.”

  “Not for a bored and sheltered one. I was under the impression I was going to be slaving away in this castle in one way or another.”

  He pushed his plate away and stood. “So you imagined yourself chained either to the stove or to my bed, did you?” he asked as he moved toward her.

  “My father was vague. He said I owed it to him but that I should expect the worst. When I said I would go willingly, he actually choked on his wine. He seemed pleased though and dismissed me to pack without another word.”

  He stood only an inch away from her now. “And given the choice, which would you prefer?”

  She looked up into his eyes and tried to ignore the masculine scent of leather. She turned her head and eyed the stove before stepping back and eyeing him as well. His gaze never wavered from her face. “It’s a very nice stove.”

  He roared with laughter. “You must be a changeling. You have more wit and personality in one strand of your hair than your parents had put together.”

  “I’m my own person. No one and nothing will ever change that.” She went to the table and gathered his dishes. She walked them to the sink and began looking around at the well-equipped kitchen.

  “Not even your present situation?”

  She let her breath out in a huff. “Are you determined to have me unhappy? What does it matter? My father will never know! For all he knows I’m locked in the dungeon or on my hands and knees scrubbing the floor in rags.”